BREAKING CURSED BONDS

by Elisabeth Zguta

  Mr. Lawson sorted through some manila folders that lay flat on the desk, and pulled forward the one he sought. He talked quickly, and his hands trembled as he opened a thick binder filled with white pages.

  “There is also a very generous trust set up for you and your lovely wife Rachael. You will inherit it jointly with conditions that its compounding wealth and interests be passed on to your future children. No transfer can be made into other accounts. I have all the detailed documents here, and we can go over them together.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” Robert interrupted. “My father is still controlling me from his grave, making sure I stay in line. He’s keeping an eye on his legacy, still pulling the strings, with no regard for my feelings, his only son. All he cares about is the damned family name and legacy. I’ve been reduced to nothing more than a token son, a headdress, name and title but with no real power. Well, thanks a lot, Father.”

  He rubbed his fingers against his forehead, massaging out the tension. “Even from the grave he can’t show me one sign of affection.” Robert swallowed hard and turned away. A moment later Robert spoke again. “Okay, then. Is there anything else we need to know right now?” he asked.

  Emilie was surprised by his sudden transition from rage to apparent acceptance. Mr. Lawson moved back to the desk and produced additional paperwork from his Italian leather briefcase.

  “I will leave a copy of the will for each of you to review in your own time. I also tailored a financial breakdown for each of you, to help answer any questions. Later, I’d like to meet with you each individually, but not until after you have had a chance to review the paperwork. Please don’t hesitate to have a lawyer of your own choice review it, if you deem that appropriate.” He laid out the folders on the desktop, each marked with their names in black ink.

  “All of you are very lucky, and have complete financial security. The only thing left in the will is your father’s wish to make a sizable donation to the Church. Pierre requested his friend, Father Eddie,” he nodded in Eddie’s direction, “be in charge of the trust set up for the Church in his and Bethany’s names.”

  Robert stood and looked pointedly at the lawyer. “I want you all to know, I am not so willing to give up all the power of the company dealings without a fight. Don’t forget, I work there already. I know the deals and the business, all of it.

  “Mr. Lawson, you need to give me a few days to look into this will in more detail, and then we can discuss things. I am sure there will be more questions for you, too. So, Mr. Lawson, for now let’s leave all as is,” Robert said. “You don’t need to enforce the will yet, it can wait until we are all sure of what it really means. Michelle may decide it’s too much for her, anyway. I can meet with you to discuss this in a couple of days. Right now, I need to check on business, the rest of you may have forgotten, but we are actually open today.”

  Michelle stood up. “Not going to happen, Robert. You can’t go back to the office, and about you working there… Well you did work there, past tense.” She turned and faced her brother, looking him in the eye. “Your desk has been cleared out, and your things are being delivered here, later today. As of right now, you’re not allowed to set foot in any of the company buildings.”

  Robert’s face instantly turned red. He tensed his body into a tight knot. “You can’t do that,” he screamed. “I’m going to the office right now.”

  “Don’t even try. Security has been alerted. The codes have been changed. I took the liberty of going through your papers last night, and I came across quite a few documents that I need to discuss with you, in private. You have some serious explaining to do.”

  Robert’s temper flared out of control. “How dare you speak to me in this manner! You have no right to go through my desk. You’re a crazy bitch. I want you arrested.”

  Michelle moved across the room, until she was face to face with Robert.

  “Maybe I am crazy, but no worse than you. Go ahead, Robert, call the police,” she taunted in a haughty voice. “You can explain how you were stealing money from the company. I believe the term for that is embezzlement.”

  Emilie watched her brother, like everyone else in the room. It was the first time she ever remembered him looking terrified. Robert swallowed hard. Sweat appeared on his forehead.

  “My, my, you are the snake in the grass,” he said. His voice sounded off.

  Michelle stared at him with insolent eyes.

  “How do you know such things, cheeky little sister? I think you’re misinformed.”

  “Oh come now, don’t play the innocent with me. I know what you’ve been up to,” she said. “Stealing, cheating. Funneling money into Tom Bennett’s copious funds. Let’s not forget drugging our father, and my personal favorite low, paying people to steal ancient books and journals from old English scholars!”

  Jaws dropped. The room went silent. Emilie turned to Jeremy, worried about his reaction. His face paled in front of her eyes, his smile erased. It took only a second for the meaning of Michelle’s words to incite him. Jeremy leaped up from his chair, crossed the room, and grabbed Robert by the throat.

  “You’re the one responsible for my Uncle Thad’s death? You hired that piece of rubbish, Mr. Pierce? Bloody hell! I should kill you!” Jeremy released his hold on Robert. He glared at him with contempt. “No worries, I won’t lower myself to your standards. Drugging your father, too. You’re insane.” Jeremy pushed Robert away in anger, and Robert tumbled to the floor.

  He managed to get back to his feet, his face livid. Robert straightened out his sleeves and brushed at his jacket, his hands shaking violently. “Well, I hope you feel better now that you have shown your true colors.”

  Jeremy raised his fist, but restrained himself before he took a swing. Emilie hurried to Jeremy’s side.

  “It’s not worth it,” she said to him. “Look at me, not him.” Emilie pulled on his arm. He turned to face her and immediately calmed down. “It’s not worth it, Jeremy. We know what he’s done. It’s all over, we stopped the curse and fulfilled your Uncle Thaddeus’s wishes. We saved his Aunt Rose’s spirit.”

  “What’s this? You think you stopped the curse, that Rachael was cursed? Wake up, people!” Robert hadn’t missed a beat. He flung his arms up in the air in exasperation, then turned and drummed a nearby tabletop, tapping it as if it were a bongo drum. He had everyone’s attention. “There are no such things as curses, fools! Well, at least I got back at Father with that one. I did scare the shit out of him with that curse business.” Robert spun around and glared at Jeremy. “You have your precious book back, so why don’t you just leave us, Englishman!” Robert pushed his hands away as if swatting a fly. “Go home and stay away from my sister. You’re not part of this family!”

  “Enough!” Father Eddie said.

  The priest stood up so fast that he startled everyone. “I’ve had it with your disrespect. Robert, your disloyalty disgusts me.” He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. His stance spoke volumes.

  “You will regret this, Robert,” Jeremy blurted out. “You disgraced your father, and your scheme led to my uncle’s death. You think that hurting anyone in your way is okay? Well, it’s not okay, and I’m not going to let you hurt Emilie anymore. You should know that there was a curse, you fool. Your father died saving you, saving Rachael, saving your family legacy from that curse. He sacrificed his own life. You sulk like a spoiled child, when you should be grateful instead that you have a family that cares about you, even when you don’t give a damn back.”

  The room was dead quiet.

  “What are you talking about?” Rachael said. “I vaguely remember something happened in the room that night. Was there really a ritual? I thought it was a dream.”

  “You were sick, Rachael, and just dreaming,” Robert said. “My father died from a heart attack.”

  “No, I remember, I was the one dying. Then something happened and I woke up feeling strong again, only to see Pierre on the floor and then he die
d, right in front of us all. Do I owe my life to Pierre?”

  “Yes, Rachael,” Michelle said.

  Rachael stood, her face pale with shock. She searched the room, looking at each of them, and she seemed ready to cry. She turned and sailed out of the room.

  Emilie watched her leave, relieved as some of the anger in the room went with her. Robert stomped out next, probably going to have his nose wiped by Tom Bennett at the Peabody. Emilie felt no sympathy for her brother. She also understood that there was more drama ahead for them all.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Robert entered the gracious lobby of the historic Peabody Hotel. The marble floors gleamed down the side spaces that surrounded the sitting area. The center space was covered with a high exotic ceiling made of carved wooden panels, adorned with gold leaf and colorful painted shields.

  Clusters of people sat comfortably on the soft sofas below, immersed in the warm decor. The sound from the overflowing fountain was white noise in the busy hall; it was made of black marble that held a pool of water that was frequented by the famous Peabody ducks in a celebrated spectacle twice each day. The pool had a centered urn of carved children in stone, holding up a heavy potted flower display.

  Robert paid little attention to his surroundings, however, too consumed with everything that had just happened. He searched the space for Tom Bennett. Looking around one of the large columns that bordered the room, Robert finally found his mentor, chatting away with a blonde stranger at a bar in the corner. Robert headed across the span but was intercepted midway by one of the very last people he wanted to see.

  “Well, hello there, Mr. de Gourgues. I think we have some business we need to finish.”

  Hugh Pierce smirked at him as he stood barring Robert’s way, waiting for a response.

  “Mr. Pierce, I believe we’re finished. There’s nothing more to be done.” Robert was tired of this pesky man. He stared down at him, trying to intimidate, but unfortunately, the man was persistent.

  “Sir, please come with me to discuss this privately. I assure you, our transactions are not completed yet.”

  Robert looked at his watch and sighed theatrically. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the security camera mounted in the corner of the room, and took an extra moment to ensure he’d been seen. “You go ahead and I’ll follow you up. The third floor, right?”

  “I will see you soon,” Pierce said, nodding, and then he walked away.

  Robert roamed the walkway that flanked the expanse of the huge lobby, not wanting to be seen following Pierce to the elevators. Specialty shops lined the perimeter. Robert window shopped and then walked into a men’s clothing store and bought a golf shirt for five hundred dollars. Satisfied that enough time had passed, he grudgingly went up to the third floor hotel room. He made a conscious choice to use the stairs rather than the elevator. He didn’t pass any hotel staff in the hallway, and Robert knew this older section of the hotel, which contained cheaper, smaller rooms, had no security cameras. He knocked on the door.

  Hugh Pierce opened the door and with a wide arm, he bowed, as if letting in royalty. Robert entered the lilac-colored room, ready to put an end to things. Pierce closed the door and walked over to the small desk that he improvised as a bar, and poured them both a drink from a bottle of Highland Park whiskey. He handed Robert a small glass. Robert took a swig of his favorite smoky malt, trying to cover up his annoyance.

  “So, Pierce, what business do we need to discuss?” he said, holding back his contempt for this man.

  “I want one more payment,” Pierce said. “It’s only fair considering everything I have done for you. Plus, there is one more piece of information I have. I know it will be of some interest to you.”

  Pierce swirled the drink in his hand confidently, waiting for a response. “Just tell me what you know, I’ll be fair if I think it warrants payment. I’ve been more than generous with you already,” Robert said irritably. After everything else that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, the last thing he needed was Hugh Pierce continuing to milk him dry.

  Pierce obviously picked up on Robert’s frustration, and sped up his story, nervously crinkling an envelope he held in his hands. “Agreed, you have been. The thing is, while I was researching some of your family’s history, I took the liberty of searching some public records on your mother’s side, as well. Some very interesting information came to light, and I know it will be of interest to you.”

  “Please, I really don’t care about my mother’s family. I’m not really impressed by any of them.” He let out a deep sigh, trying to stay patient.

  “Believe me, Mr. de Gourgues, you want to know about this. It concerns your sister.”

  Robert’s mouth curled up with a smile. “Well go ahead, tell it all.”

  Once Robert was indeed interested, Pierce unloaded the information willingly.

  Robert listened to the whole story. Intrigued, he grabbed the yellow envelope from the man’s hands and scanned the documents inside. Robert lingered over a photo for a moment, studying a familiar face. Well, well, baby sister, he thought, what have you done, Michelle? A smile touched his lips.

  Robert agreed to pay for the information without hesitation. They reached an agreement of five thousand dollars, and Robert handed him the cash from his inside jacket pocket. Pierce shuffled the money, then made a snapping noise with the bills and shoved them into his own breast pocket.

  “Done deal. Nice doing business with you, Mr. de Gourgues. Let’s have one more toast and seal the deal,” he said.

  Hugh Pierce took Robert’s glass, and turned to top it with more booze. Robert extracted a small vial from his pocket and covertly poured its contents into Pierce’s glass, which rested on the table in front of him. Pierce turned around, handed Robert his glass, picked up his own, and raised it to toast their business conclusion. Clanging glasses, they gulped the smooth scotch. A few scant seconds after a brisk swig, Mr. Pierce gasped.

  His glass fell to the gold carpet. Pierce grabbed his throat, his mouth gaping wide as he fought for air. He dropped to his knees, choking, and then toppled over.

  Robert smirked as he watched Pierce’s body contort as the man convulsed. He took a sip of his beloved scotch. The struggle ended, and Pierce’s body went limp in death. Robert bent down and verified that his pulse was gone. He picked up the empty glass from the floor with a napkin, and placed it in the bag with his recent purchase. He grabbed the money from Mr. Pierce’s front jacket pocket, and returned it to his own. Then, Robert strolled to the door and, after one last glance, he left the room still sucking down the scotch in his own glass. He was happy to be rid of that pest.

  Robert took the stairs down to the lobby. Looking across the open span, he gazed up to survey the second-story balcony, decorated with ornate black wrought-iron railings. Satisfied that no one was tailing him, Robert ambled over and joined Tom, who still sat waiting at the bar, his glass in hand.

  “Barkeep, a drink. Make it scotch. Double.” Then Robert placed both glasses from the room onto the black slate counter, to be cleared off and cleaned. The hotel had the best service. No evidence would be around to connect him with Pierce’s death, even if authorities could determine it was from cyanide poisoning. Robert smiled at his cleverness. Tom Bennett raised his eyebrows.

  “You seem pleased with yourself. So, how are things?” Tom asked.

  “Some things are fine, some not. The Pierce matter was taken care of. No more loose ends,” Robert said.

  “Good.”

  “I just need to discuss with you some bumps I ran into regarding my father’s will.”

  Tom frowned. Robert knew Tom expected everything to be smooth sailing now that his father was gone. Tom had already made commitments with anticipation of a payday soon. Robert had hoped that his inheritance would be his golden ticket into Tom Bennett’s secret society. He wanted in, hoping to prove he was the right material by handing over money to fund various projects. Tom had promised him a spot. This change in th
e will better not blow my plans apart.

  “Okay, Robert, tell me what happened?” Tom said.

  He noticed Tom’s sharp angled nose, and a dangerously worried look. Robert cleared his throat. “The old guy screwed me, even in death. He changed his will and left the business and the accounts to my sisters. Do you believe that? What an ass. Even in death he’s killing me!”

  Tom Bennett took a long swig, then slammed his glass down. “Contest it. Robert, you have a copy of the original will. Just play up his senile mind that you so boldly induced. Judges see crazy old people dragged into court all the time.”

  “I can’t. Somehow, my family knew I drugged Father, and they knew about the stolen money, too.”

  Burning with anger, Tom Bennett’s face tuned dark. Robert drew in a deep breath. He understood no one crossed this man and lived, he had too many demons and influential followers, some even more dangerous than himself. All the monies that had been funneled into Tom Bennett’s accounts were needed for his great master plan, and it was only part of the fee Robert had to pay, to be accepted as a member of one of the most influential societies in the world.

  “Tom, please check your accounts to see if the money is still there,” Robert said.

  “You make sure you cover your tracks,” he replied, pointing his finger at him. “No fucking way is Pierre going to squeeze me from his grave. You have no idea how much I hate that man.”

  “Okay, okay. Then make me a part of the society, and then we can bring in your big guns. What I need is something to stick on my siblings, something to use as blackmail, in order to get control back, the sooner the better.”